tried to answer her. I opened my mouth and everything, but nothing would come out."
I patted my bed. "Sit."
She sank down beside me. I pushed her hair behind her ears. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You tried, and you deserve some credit."
Her eyes were full of tears. "No, I don't."
How could someone not talk if they wanted to? It didn't make any sense. If you wanted to say something, you simply opened your mouth and said it. What was wrong with her?
"Yes, you do, Sarah. It shows you care. It's important to try a little bit at a time. Don't worry. It'll be fine."
I was blathering and I knew it. I had no idea if what I was saying was true. Sarah nestled against my side. She seemed to believe me, anyway.
"Want to play Boggle?"
We hadn't played for months, and we used to play quite a bit. Sarah was good at it, too. She often beat me.
She sat up straight. "Can we?"
"Sure, why not? Don't have anything else to do right now."
She ran to my closet. All our games were on my top shelf, arranged by size. Boggle was at the top. She couldn't quite reach it, so I went over, stood on my tiptoes, and grabbed it.
"Okay, girl, let's see what you've got," I said.
She smiled. Not her stretch-across-the-face smile, but a smile, nevertheless.
After an hour and losing two games, I took her to her bedroom and tucked her in. I bent over to kiss her on her cheek.
"Emiliâ¦"
"Yeah, Sarah?"
"Thanks."
I pulled the blankets up under her chin. "Nothing to thank me for, kiddo."
She grabbed my hand and held it to her cheek, and my heart felt as though it would crack open. I bent to kiss her again. She let go, and I walked to her door and turned out the light. As I left the room, I pulled her door quietly shut behind me. Mom stood at the end of the hall watching. Her face was poised, as if she wanted to say something. I paused, but she turned away and went back into the living room. I didn't move for a minute. A lump grew in my throat, closing off the air. I swallowed hard.
I went into the living room where Mom sat stiff as a new pair of shoes, her feet placed flat in front of her like she was waiting for her turn at the doctor's office.
"She's okay," I said. "She's asleep now."
Mom nodded, a small formal movement. I nodded back, turned, and retreated to my room.
****
On the bus Monday morning, Sarah seemed somehow better. When we pulled into the middle school, she got up without a push from me. Progress.
I wondered if she was talking at school. She still wouldn't talk to anyone at home but me. Was she mad at Mom and Dad? Was her anger strong enough to keep her silent for weeks? She told me she would talk, but then she didn't â couldn't. It made no sense.
Note to self: Search Internet for answers .
The library at Edgemont High had a bank of computers in the back. I could go at lunchtime. Possibly, I'd have some extra time to job hunt. Neither Margo nor Sally had my lunch period, so it wasn't as though anyone would miss me in the cafeteria. Since the first day when I'd eaten at Laine's table, I'd staked out a semi-permanent spot in the farthest corner I could find, which worked, for the most part. I'd only had to move twice when some senior girls had gone back there to host a massive gossip fest.
The bus pulled into the high school lot, and Sally and Margo were walking up the steps. If I hustled, I could catch them. They saw me coming before I hit the ground. "Hey, Emili, hurry up," Sally said, motioning me over.
My heart lightened â it was beyond great to have someone happy to see me. I flew to catch up.
"Hey guys," I said, a bit breathless.
"Hey back," Sally said. "How was your weekend?"
"My sister ran away."
Both Sally and Margo stopped short. "What?" they asked in unison.
"Yeah. My sister Sarah. She's in fifth grade. We found her, though."
"Where'd she go?" asked Margo.
"To our old school, but it's okay now."
"Here I thought my weekend was exciting because I went to the mall after practicing all morning."
I patted my bed. "Sit."
She sank down beside me. I pushed her hair behind her ears. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You tried, and you deserve some credit."
Her eyes were full of tears. "No, I don't."
How could someone not talk if they wanted to? It didn't make any sense. If you wanted to say something, you simply opened your mouth and said it. What was wrong with her?
"Yes, you do, Sarah. It shows you care. It's important to try a little bit at a time. Don't worry. It'll be fine."
I was blathering and I knew it. I had no idea if what I was saying was true. Sarah nestled against my side. She seemed to believe me, anyway.
"Want to play Boggle?"
We hadn't played for months, and we used to play quite a bit. Sarah was good at it, too. She often beat me.
She sat up straight. "Can we?"
"Sure, why not? Don't have anything else to do right now."
She ran to my closet. All our games were on my top shelf, arranged by size. Boggle was at the top. She couldn't quite reach it, so I went over, stood on my tiptoes, and grabbed it.
"Okay, girl, let's see what you've got," I said.
She smiled. Not her stretch-across-the-face smile, but a smile, nevertheless.
After an hour and losing two games, I took her to her bedroom and tucked her in. I bent over to kiss her on her cheek.
"Emiliâ¦"
"Yeah, Sarah?"
"Thanks."
I pulled the blankets up under her chin. "Nothing to thank me for, kiddo."
She grabbed my hand and held it to her cheek, and my heart felt as though it would crack open. I bent to kiss her again. She let go, and I walked to her door and turned out the light. As I left the room, I pulled her door quietly shut behind me. Mom stood at the end of the hall watching. Her face was poised, as if she wanted to say something. I paused, but she turned away and went back into the living room. I didn't move for a minute. A lump grew in my throat, closing off the air. I swallowed hard.
I went into the living room where Mom sat stiff as a new pair of shoes, her feet placed flat in front of her like she was waiting for her turn at the doctor's office.
"She's okay," I said. "She's asleep now."
Mom nodded, a small formal movement. I nodded back, turned, and retreated to my room.
****
On the bus Monday morning, Sarah seemed somehow better. When we pulled into the middle school, she got up without a push from me. Progress.
I wondered if she was talking at school. She still wouldn't talk to anyone at home but me. Was she mad at Mom and Dad? Was her anger strong enough to keep her silent for weeks? She told me she would talk, but then she didn't â couldn't. It made no sense.
Note to self: Search Internet for answers .
The library at Edgemont High had a bank of computers in the back. I could go at lunchtime. Possibly, I'd have some extra time to job hunt. Neither Margo nor Sally had my lunch period, so it wasn't as though anyone would miss me in the cafeteria. Since the first day when I'd eaten at Laine's table, I'd staked out a semi-permanent spot in the farthest corner I could find, which worked, for the most part. I'd only had to move twice when some senior girls had gone back there to host a massive gossip fest.
The bus pulled into the high school lot, and Sally and Margo were walking up the steps. If I hustled, I could catch them. They saw me coming before I hit the ground. "Hey, Emili, hurry up," Sally said, motioning me over.
My heart lightened â it was beyond great to have someone happy to see me. I flew to catch up.
"Hey guys," I said, a bit breathless.
"Hey back," Sally said. "How was your weekend?"
"My sister ran away."
Both Sally and Margo stopped short. "What?" they asked in unison.
"Yeah. My sister Sarah. She's in fifth grade. We found her, though."
"Where'd she go?" asked Margo.
"To our old school, but it's okay now."
"Here I thought my weekend was exciting because I went to the mall after practicing all morning."
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